La Atamisqueña

Dancin' Atamisqueña among the growin' mountains you go
To the whisper of the reeds like a carob pod
The whole soul of Santiago seems to walk through Atamisqui
Strolling in the trenches over the noise of the carnival

Sparking fire in the siestas with the ashes of the salt flat
Diving into the gathering with the ghost mule she went out to dance
Añuritay chacarera all the Santiago cowboys
Dancin' through the veins carrying blood in the heart

Blooming in the chañares she turns into añapa like a mistol
And waking up the machas fills the drinker's jugs

Keeping pace with the drums where the parties usually go on
There go the cacharpayas with accordion; guitar and violin
The dark-skinned women of Atamisqui are the little flowers of the sandy soil
Just like the mint they heal the sorrows of all evil

Añuritay chacarera all the Santiago cowboys
Dancin' through the veins carrying blood in the heart